


Hands-On Experience

by dream56



Category: Lupin III
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Public Nudity, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 02:23:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18955978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dream56/pseuds/dream56
Summary: A vacation was exactly what Zenigata needed. A game of strip poker with Lupin was not.





	Hands-On Experience

“I thought vacations were supposed to be relaxing.” Zenigata sank his face into his hands, his chin hitting the card table in front of him with a thud.

“In your line of work?” Lupin asked. “I’m amazed you took a vacation at all.”

Zenigata aimed an index finger at Lupin without looking up. “I _needed_ a vacation, all the running around you had me doing. Thought I could get away to the seaside, get some ice cream, take some time off. Figures I can’t be away a _day_ without you showing up to harass me.”

“Aw, daddy-o, you know I just can’t stay away from you. _Or you from me_ , for that matter.”

Zenigata could hear Lupin’s grin, the way the syllables slid from between the master thief’s lips, the tight and playful sound teasing the tips of his ears, intermingling with the distant surf. He shivered all at once, sitting up, the tingle traveling from his feet to the top of his head, not cold even with the mitigating sea breeze penetrating the thick summer bubble of heat, but anxious. He had every right to be. Strip poker with Lupin was a dire circumstance indeed.

“You could _al_ ways just concede, old man.” Lupin leaned back in his chair, a hand of cards fanned out in front of his wide smile.

“I have more honor than that! _And_ more dignity.” Zenigata pounded his fist on the table, upsetting a pitiful three of a kind that had lost him the last exchange. “I’m not going to just throw in the towel when things get rough. You know that.”

“I count on it,” Lupin said bemused.

The veranda of Zenigata’s rented beach-house was small, just big enough to accommodate the table, two deck chairs, and both men. Opening off the second floor master-suite, it looked out over the open ocean, some several hundred feet away, the churning water a white gleam of froth this late in the evening, the dim light from inside Zenigata’s bedroom cast across the cards.

Lupin, still in full suit and tie, tapped on the table, his eyes never leaving Zenigata’s chest. The older detective, down to his trademark hat and boxers, made a face, a grimace on a good day, and crossed his arms.

“I _know_ you’re cheating somehow, Lupin. I can’t be _that_ bad at cards.”

Lupin put a hand over his heart. “Ah, you wound me, daddy-o. As if I needed to cheat to beat you at cards.”

Zenigata grasped the deck, folding his and Lupin’s past hands back in, and began shuffling. “Well I ain’t giving you an inch, you hear me?”

“A shame,” Lupin said. “I would be only too happy to take an inch. Or two. _Or ten_.”

Zenigata reddened, a blush easily observable as racing down his neck and onto his shoulders. The lamp inside suggested as much, sharpening the contrast of his profile, the bank of darkness on the other side of his nose sliding down to his mouth. Lupin cut the cards and leaned forward, dealing the cards in a quick pittering rhythm.

Zenigata eagerly clasped up his hand, spread it, then groaned.

“Might as well give up now, old man,” Lupin said. “It’s not too late to save _some_ face.”

“ _You, me, a game of strip poker,” Lupin had proposed to the suitably astonished cop. “You win, I go quietly with you to the jail and I’m out of your hair. …for a little while.”_

“ _And if I lose?” Zenigata had asked, feeling very naked without a pair of handcuffs handy._

“ _I get to kiss you. Square on that hunky face of yours.” Lupin had leaned against the door._

_Zenigata had stiffened, sure the thief had something up his sleeve. What could it be? Some plan Lupin needed to stall him for? Some design he’d not yet perceived? Espionage? Surveillance? He’d not brought any official documents with him, no detective work, no police business of any kind. So what was Lupin’s game? It wouldn’t fare well to blunder into Lupin’s trap without considering all the options. Then again…_

_The longer he could keep Lupin around him, the longer the world went without Lupin causing trouble. If only it was that easy! If it meant keeping the king of criminals off the streets and out of banks and museums and the like, Zenigata wouldn’t spare a second thought to keeping Lupin by his side for the rest of his life, however short (or shortened) that proved to be._

_Zenigata had rubbed his chin, a scruff of stubble chafing his palm, and weighed the delicate likelihood of having to kiss his life’s target._

“ _Deal,” he’d said._

Lupin waved a royal flush back and forth in front of Zenigata’s face. “Come on, come on, what are you gonna part with this time?”

Zenigata considered, then threw his hat on the table, followed by his lackluster hand. Lupin chuckled, palming the hat and plopping it on his head at a rakish angle.

“You know, daddy-o, there’s something I just can’t figure out.”

“And what’s that?” Zenigata settled back in his seat, readjusting his boxers, suddenly more aware they weren’t doing a perfect job of keeping everything he wanted out of eyeshot covered. He spread his legs, not quite satisfied.

“Why you thought you could win against me at cards.”

“I figured you’d play fair. Rookie mistake on my part.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Lupin crossed his legs. “If I was doing something dirty, I’d have already doubled down by now. Besides, there are much easier ways to get you naked, old man.”

Zenigata frowned. Lupin had a point. He’d detected no deviance thus far, no foul play, even if the thief’s skills had rendered most of his likely technique seamless and invisible.

Lupin leaned forward again, the hat shluffing down over one eye. “So tell me. You didn’t _actually_ think you’d win? So you must have had some… _ulterior_ motive?”

Panic flashed across Zenigata’s face. “I might have…” He instinctively tugged at a shirt collar that wasn’t there. “It was, uh…for research purposes…to…uh, better understand how…”

“How my body looks next to yours in the moonlight?” Lupin swooned dramatically, the back of his hand to his forehead.

“No,” Zenigata snapped. “It was to…uh, you know, figure out how you hide weapons…on your body…”

Lupin snorted, the sharp noise sinking into the night. “The most dangerous weapon I’ve got on me right now might just be the one you want to see _most_.”

Zenigata processed this and Lupin steepled his fingers as Zenigata coughed in surprise.

“Just…just deal the next hand!”

“Whatever you say,” Lupin said. “Have to say though, I kind of envy you.”

“How’s that?”

“It’s hot as hell out here. Wouldn’t mind being you right now, having the wind on my _chest_ (Zenigata crossed his arms over his pecs again). Would be a lot more comfortable.”

“Well, you should have thought of that before winning so many hands.”

“Aw, I was hoping you’d invite me to join you.”

“As if I’d stoop so low! The only way I want to see you naked is if I beat your ass at cards.”

“Funny,” Lupin said, flitting cards over to Zenigata. “I could have sworn your dearest wish was to strip-search me.”

“That’s police business.” Zenigata pulled his cards over to him and gingerly picked them up, his spirits buoyed suddenly by a full house. His eyes darted back at Lupin who hadn’t touched his cards yet.

“Something good?”

“Maybe,” Zenigata said, with the bravado that had escaped him the entirety of the game. “We might just see you lose those pants yet.”

“I couldn’t dream of anything I’d like better,” Lupin teased. He took a card, then tossed one to Zenigata.

The detective shook his head. He was sticking with this. He’d bumbled a four-of-a-kind on his second hand and didn’t want to take another chance.

“Betting it all on this one, huh?” Lupin took another card, nodding.

“You could say that.”

“Confident?”

“Sure.”

The salt air crept along Zenigata’s bare back, each wet breath from the sea leaving a thicker residue of shine on his body, compounded with sweat, his chest now a sheen from the dull yellow light inside. He kept his arms up, feeling Lupin’s eyes, taking inventory of the curve of his pecs, his nipples, the easy wave of his collarbone. Zenigata was correct in his assessment, though lacking accuracy, as Lupin’s eyes swept down the older man’s stomach to his blue and white striped boxers, the worn fabric doing little to disguise the bulge his uniform usually hid.

“Not long now,” Lupin murmured.

Zenigata caught the words but grinned menacingly, fired up. “You sound sure of yourself.”

“Are you ready?” Lupin returned, equally energetic.

The gravity, rather than dampening Zenigata’s spirits, riled them. He and Lupin had been through much worse in the past so what little shame he risked on this next hand was a small wager on the grand reward if he won a hand. Even one. And even if not…

Zenigata set his hand down, beaming.

Lupin clucked his tongue, “Not bad old man, not bad at all. …unfortunately…”

Zenigata froze. “Don’t tell me.”

“Yep, seems like I win.” Lupin laid out another impossible royal flush, the eyes of each monarch blank and accusatory, each staring at Zenigata’s defeat.

“I cannot believe it.” The cop slumped back, dangling his arms at his sides.

“Can’t you? I thought we both knew this was going to happen.” Lupin fanned himself with Zenigata’s hat, the older man’s faint scent catching at the edges of Lupin’s nose, that slight soft scent a mix of musk, the sweat from long stakeouts, the earthy impact of every out of the way location he’d hidden in. Lupin fanned harder.

“I figured I’d get one hand on you at least.”

“Hey,” Lupin shrugged, “you could have both hands on me if you’d just ask.”

“Perv,” Zenigata said, getting to his feet. “Well…” He looked around, hoping none of the neighbors would be out this late.

“As much as it pains me, I’m still willing to offer you the penalty,” Lupin swung a leg over an arm of the chair. “You could walk away with just the sweet impression of my lips without baring it all for me and the world to see.”

“Nonsense,” Zenigata shot back, gripping the waistband of his boxers. “A man has more pride than to give in at the last second. You won.”

“Go on, then. I’m waiting.”

Zenigata shut his eyes and yanked his shorts down, leaving them suspended halfway down his thighs. He waited. He could hear some slight creaking of Lupin moving around and what felt like a soft breath tickled across his crotch. He opened his eyes to Lupin laying on the card table, belly down, a few inches from his cock, soaking up the sight of it.

He startled backwards, his underwear riding down to his ankles. “ _What in the?_ Lupin! You gotta warn me before you do that.”

Lupin grinned, swinging his legs up and keeping his heels perched above his waist. “Had to give your goods a close inspection, daddy-o. Always check for a counterfeit.”

Zenigata barked a sudden laugh, gripping his junk. “Does this look fake to you?”

Lupin whistled. “Nope. Damn, old man, if I’d known you were packing such a monster, I’d have challenged you to cards ages ago.”

“No reason to think you’d beat me,” Zenigata grumbled. “You just got lucky.”

Lupin gave him a pitying look and hopped off the table. He rounded it, reminding Zenigata of how very little space remained on the veranda and how increasingly little room remained for him to slip back inside his bedroom. His bare butt brushed against the wooden slats of the railing as Lupin sidled up to him, flush.

“Remember?” he asked. “There’s one other thing I won.”

Zenigata shuddered. “Yes, I _remember_.”

“Pucker up then, daddy-o.” Lupin bopped Zenigata on the nose and the older man begrudgingly closed his eyes. So long as he didn’t have to see it, it would make it all go faster. He was just relieved his fellows on the squad weren’t anywhere close by. He pursed his lips and waited. And waited.

“Are you planning on doing it anytime soon? …Lupin?” Zenigata could swear he still felt the thief’s body heat. He opened his eyes.

Lupin was hovering not an inch from his face and before Zenigata could react had already smooched the older man’s lips with fervor. As practiced as Zenigata knew Lupin must have been, there was some simple earnestness in this contact that suggested something new to him about his sometime foe, sometime friend. What was it? Certainly not a vulnerability, for a man who made his body a shield, a weapon, a partner to debauchery. But perhaps a mark of sincerity, one honest twinge in the immaculately manicured charisma of deception.

Whatever it was, Zenigata stumbled back, shocked.

“ _Agh_ —“

Lupin laughed. “Thanks for the kiss, old man. Now I gotta run. With you on vacation, the world’s my oyster.”

“Why _you_ ,” Zenigata made to grab Lupin but the slender man slipped right out of his arms, through his legs, nearly knocking the detective over, over the railing, down an adjacent tree, and away down the dark street. Zenigata could see Lupin wave.

“I’ll _catch you one day, Lupin!_ ” Zenigata shook his fist as the vivid color of Lupin’s jacket sank into the black. The buzzing of the light and the pattering of off-white moths replaced the hard beating of Zenigata’s heart. He suddenly noticed how very naked he still was in the very still public outside world. He scrambled inside, pulling his clothes with him, scattering the cards on the table in a flurry of black and red and white.

Zenigata pulled on his shirt, walking deeper into the room, already calculating the dispatch he’d send in the morning. No, too late, it would have to be a direct transmission tonight. Even on vacation, he had a job to do and he would do it honorably. If clumsily.

As he fixed the buttons of his shirt, one after another, he wet his lips and the hair stood up on his arms. What was that? He paused, fumbling a button. He had been on a singular track with an evasive objective: nab the world’s greatest criminal. How close he had been, how close his goal had neared and swayed and fell back, his course winding around and around his target. So what…

He shook his head. The musings of an old man. He needed to get that message sent. He looked around and stopped. He went and peeked out on the veranda again, a shock of anger rising in his throat.

“That damn thief stole my underwear!” Zenigata gripped his face. “I cannot _believe_ …” He tore around to his bureau, pulling on the rest of his clothes, hopping up and down as he struggled with his pants.

“I’m going to catch him if it’s the last thing I do!” As he strode down the street toward the local police station, it hardly occurred to him how completely he had caught Lupin already.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For Aizenhower.


End file.
